


love undone

by dianna44



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Binge Drinking, F/M, I apologize if a whole bunch of this seems cliche, Infidelity, M/M, Oops, This fic might piss you off ngl, also like mentions of sex but really idk sorry, hope you like it, idk this just went everywhere, oh and louis is a writer, suggested depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3527348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianna44/pseuds/dianna44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>au. louis' first thought about harry styles was 'this boy is going to break my heart'; he didn't want it to be true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love undone

**Author's Note:**

> this fic took me forever. it went everywhere like I don't even know. I don't really like it all that much anymore because when I say it took me a long time, I mean this stupid thing too me a long time. seriously. a LOT of respect for those writers who write like 40K one-shots like holy hell how do you even do that. 
> 
> anyway, look at the tags for any trigger warnings. 
> 
> oh and each amount of time before each scene is how long louis has been dating/known harry 
> 
> thanks for reading (if you are going to read it, that is)

**7 years, 7 months, 16 days.**

Louis remembers the first thing he thought when he saw Harry Styles for the first time and it was ' _this boy is going to break my heart'._ It was also soon followed with the thoughts ' _and he’s a hipster shit'._

He remembers every movement, every breath that he took when Harry kept apologizing for knocking into him and spilling all of shitty textbooks to the floor. He remembers the way Harry grinned at him, all dimples and happiness after Louis commented on that stupid fucking fedora he was wearing.

He remembers the way Harry held out his hand and introduced himself and Louis thinking that ' _great, the hipster shit was a gentleman. A big oaf of a gentleman.'_

He remembers all of it and because of all the good memories that started to take root in Louis’ life, he forgot those first thoughts he had when meeting him. He forgot it because he fell so hard, tumbling down into a spiral into everything that makes up _Harry._

 _Harry_ , the boy who would sing the songs he was listening to under his breath and not care what anyone thought.

 _Harry_ , the boy who made cupcakes for the first time he’d meet Jay because ' _cupcakes make everything easier, Lou, didn’t you know?'_

That was all _Harry._ That was who Louis determined he couldn’t live without over a drunken phone call with Zayn one night after he’d gotten into a particularly bad fight with the curly-headed boy. It was the boy who Louis first told how he felt so restricted to being the responsible boy while raising his sisters for his teen years, even though he always seemed like the class clown.

That’s all _Harry,_ and because of all of that, Louis allowed himself to forget those first thoughts of his upon meeting him because he had so much love and hope and dreams for the boy that it seemed like such a stupid thought.

It was supposed to be just some stupid thought.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 4 months, 23 days.**

Louis was trying to cook when Harry walked in, late. Well, he had been overseeing the cooking really since he had been sitting at the dining table that Harry made him buy last year while idly chewing at his thumbnail because he couldn’t get his stupid story to move forward. The microwave was just a background noise to his irritated thoughts. 

Louis looked up at Harry’s arrival and got to see Harry throw his keys onto the counter and look at Harry, face flushed and hair wild. Louis thought he looked hot.

“Hey, babe,” Louis says, closing his laptop to focus his attention on Harry. Harry sends him a tired smile and sits across from Louis, picking at a loose string on his ridiculous shirt.

“Hi, Louis,” Harry responds and Louis smiles. “Are you cooking?” The surprise on his face could be considered rude if Louis actually gave a shit and/or if he could actually even cook, and since he didn’t particularly care about either, he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah…no. Really, I’m just heating up some of the dinner from two days ago. Plus, I firmly believe that if you ever have the word “cooking” in a sentence involving me then the word “trying” should be in there as well.” Harry cracks another tired smile and Louis’ heart tugs a little at how dark the bags under his eyes have gotten. “How was today?”

Harry yawns. “Uhm…a lot?” He gives another laugh, one that Louis would consider awkward at first, but he figures it’s just because of Harry being so tired. “I don’t know. I think I’m just going to go to bed. Is that okay, Lou?” Louis purses his lips and nods, smiling slightly.

“Yeah, of course it’s fine. You need your sleep, baby. I’ll probably eat and then get frustrated with myself when I can’t write the next sentence to this stupid story so, it’s all fine, Haz.” Louis shrugs and Harry yawns in response, running his hand through his hair.

“Okay,” Harry says, standing up. “Night, babe.” He yawns again before Louis replies, teasingly put out.

“Is that it?” he asks, adding a pout. “What about a kiss or something? I see how it is, Harold.” He crosses his arms and looks away, noticing that the food will be ready in almost a minute. Harry rolls his eyes and walks over to him, leaning down to stand Louis up and pull him in for a kiss.

And well, Louis’ surprised at first and just when he finally responds, Harry’s gone and off to the room.

_'Well, that was quick.'_

Louis sags into the chair and frowns, bringing his pointer finger up to his lips. Something was horribly wrong and Louis’ stomach felt like it was dropping ever so slowly when he realized what it was.

The microwave’s constant beeping is what brought him away from his thoughts and he went to get his food, still frowning. Maybe it was just his mind getting mixed up.

Maybe, Harry just wore something new today.

Louis transfers the food onto a plate that can’t burn him and sits back down to stare at his computer, mind seeming to be on fire.

Louis blinks, long and slow and purses his lips. It’s just his imagination.

It’s just his imagination, it has to be. 

Louis bites into the first bite and closes his eyes slowly, his stomach still plummeting to the ground when he realizes that even the food isn’t making it go away.

There’s a reason. There has to be a reason.

But what could be the reason for Harry smelling like somebody else?

Louis just chews, finally deciding on a reason that doesn’t make his heart clench.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 4 months, 28 days.**

Louis doesn’t remember their first date all that much. He remembers admitting that to Harry almost two years into their relationship and how offended Harry had been. Louis just scoffed and told him, “at least we got each other now”. Harry had called him a twat and then kissed him. It was everything that Louis wished for in a relationship and more.

Maybe it’s the ironic doom that’s been settling in on him like a cancer that makes him remember their first date. Fuck, how did he even forget?

How did he forget Harry picking him up and the first thing that comes out of Harry’s mouth is a lame ass knock-knock joke while Louis had simultaneously said how Harry had looked like a fucking idiot.

Granted, Harry still looks like a fucking idiot most of the time, going off and showing off his bandanas and flamingo shirts. Really, it’s a wonder that Louis doesn’t get rid of him now. Maybe he should.

He just keeps thinking that his heart is going to break soon. Something is going wrong and Louis doesn’t know what to fucking do about it. He can see the end and all he wants is to turn desperately around. Fuck.

Why is it fair that he suddenly remembers how Harry had said at least fifteen awful jokes that night and the way that Harry’s eyes brightened every single time he managed to get Louis to actually laugh at one?

Louis shakes his head, bringing up his knees to his chest. He’s sitting on the couch, anxiously waiting for Harry to get home and he can feel the slow, steady swallow he gives. _‘Everything is going wrong’_ , he thinks, staring at the footstool with a mild disdain. He hates that footstool.

Louis manages to make himself fall asleep before Harry can come home smelling like somebody else.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 5 months, 4 days.**

“But we said we were going to go,” Harry drawls and Louis looks back up at him from his shoes, which he had just bent down to slip off.

“I’m just not feeling it today, Haz. We can explain later. Liam will understand,” Louis sighs, sitting on the couch and stretching his legs out with a relieved moan. He fell pretty badly walking to the corner store for a pack of cigarettes and it’s hurting him to walk. Harry doesn’t seem to agree with him about his choice on staying home though.

“Louis, we promised,” he urges. Louis can only look at him and unhelpfully yawn. He’s just been so fucking tired worrying about Harry lately that he hasn’t been able to get any sleep. He can’t sleep with the smell of someone else on Harry and he’s getting frustrated. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Harry, it’s fine. It’s not like Liam doesn’t have a party every fucking weekend,” Louis manages to say, adding a hint of laughter to his voice. He doesn’t want to sound strained. Harry’s glaring at him now, obviously annoyed.

“Fucking hell, Louis! You never want to do anything!” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air before settling on running one through his hair, exasperatedly. Louis wonders how he can look so perfect even while mad. And why the fuck is he mad at him anyway?

“What the fuck are you talking about, Harry?! You’re the one who’s never home to do anything!” Louis shouts. Harry laughs, loud and biting. It pricks at Louis’ ears and Louis is _just so fucking tired._

“Well, I’m sorry that I have an actual _job_ , Louis! I’m sorry that when I am here, _you’re_ the one who doesn’t want to go out! Fuck, Louis,” he ends. Louis stands up then, ignoring the pain shoot up his leg. Of course Harry doesn’t fucking know that Louis fell while walking to the corner store because he wasn’t there. He limps over to their bedroom and he can tell Harry notices.

“Fuck off, Harry,” is what he says before Harry can say anything else and he gets into their room and slams the door. He takes in a deep breath and stands there, feeling his heart wrack against his chest. Everything is going wrong. Why is everything going so wrong? Why why why?

Harry’s knocking on the door and Louis wants to hate him. “Lou…are you okay?”

“Just go to the fucking party, Harry!” he responds. Louis rolls his eyes when he hears Harry give a sigh.

“You were limping, Louis,” he says pathetically through the door.

“Well, I suppose it’s well suited for someone like me who doesn’t have a real job, right, Harry?” he bites out.

“Louis, I’m sor—” he begins but Louis can’t do this. He can’t fucking hear this. He sits on their bed and just stares at the door.

“Just go to the fucking party,” he says, no trace of venom left in his voice. He doesn’t want Harry to go. He doesn’t want him to go. Louis stares at the door, willing for Harry to hear the thoughts he doesn’t want to say out loud.

He should have figured it would go wrong. Everything is going wrong.

“Okay, Lou,” Harry replies. He says it so softly that Louis wouldn’t have even been able to actually identify what he said if not for the faint sound of Harry walking off.

He hears the door close three minutes later and Louis hasn’t felt so alone since he came home that one day in high school and saw that his entire family was gone. Back then, he freaked out for a few hours thinking that forgot that it was his birthday and the day before Christmas, deciding to leave him there alone finally, before they all returned with presents for him and smiles on their faces.

He doubts that that is how this loneliness will be resolved this time.

Louis wanted him to just open the door. It wasn’t even locked. Why didn’t he just open it?

Louis cries himself to sleep that night, thinking about Harry and how he probably won’t smell like Harry when he gets home and it’ll all be his fault.

He dreams that Harry opened the door and tended to him and made Louis remember why he loves him, but when Louis woke up the next morning, Harry’s cold outline carved into the sheets, he realizes that it wasn’t actually a dream.

Everything’s just a fucking nightmare.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 6 months, 18 days.**

Zayn and Liam starting dating because of Louis and Louis doesn’t know if he’s ever been more proud of himself or hates himself because of it.

Right now, watching them be all cute and sweet and annoyingly perfect with each other makes Louis hate himself because of it.

Harry is supposed to be here, but he isn’t. Louis got a text from him that consisted of seven words total.

**I’m going to be late. Sorry. Work.**

That was it. There wasn’t some cheesy joke attached to it or any form of the affection that he always likened to Zayn and Liam (except they were always supposed to be cuter than them) and Louis felt his heart sink. He explained it to Liam and Zayn and they just nodded, frowning a bit before steering the conversation into something regarding footballers.

It worked for the first hour, but after two, Louis could feel his heart breaking with every second. Everything was wrong. Fuck, why?

“I think Harry’s cheating on me.” And now he finally fucking said it. He said it with no preamble and then Louis’ crying because no no _no, this isn’t fair._ He’s not supposed to _say it._ He doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to know.

And with how Zayn and Liam are looking at him, Louis thinks he wants to be sick. They look as if they already knew and he doesn’t doubt for a second that it wasn’t anything more than suspicion because they are his closest friends and they’d tell him that. He knows they wouldn’t say anything about a suspicion though, probably too worried that they’d ruin their relationship.

They don’t say much as they both get up, unlatching their beautiful selves from each other and hug Louis from both sides and Louis’ just sobbing. He can feel every fucking piece of his heart as it shatters over and over again and it’s just too much.

Harry isn’t supposed to do this. They wordlessly agreed to that when they made love for the first time. They agreed to that with every touch and kiss they would give each other because they were supposed to be _each other’s._

Louis wishes he didn’t have a heart because then it wouldn’t hurt so fucking much. Everything wouldn’t hurt.

Everything wouldn’t so wrong.

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” Liam whispers into his hair and Louis’ whole body is gasping for breaths and Louis is just here.

He’s just here, isn’t he?

He’s just here, between two people who love him so much and would never betray him like how Harry betrayed him, and Louis doesn’t want to be.

He just wants to be anywhere else but here.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 6 months, 24 days.**

Louis can’t bring it up. He can’t. He doesn’t want to. It terrifies him. The entire aspect of it terrifies him to the core and Harry has definitely noticed something because Harry’s yelling at him. He doesn’t even remember why and Louis just sits there and occasionally finds it in himself to yell back. Fuck.

Louis thinks of raindrops when he hears Harry start walking away before slamming their bedroom door with a resounding echo. Louis can’t do anything except pull out his laptop and write.

Writing will make it go away. It has to go away. Please please please please please.

Make this shit stop.

∂∂∂∂

**0 years, 4 months, 2 days.**

Harry’s lips tastes like breath mints and chocolate and Louis wants to taste him every day of his life. Harry moans, a low guttural sound reverberating from his throat and twists his hands in Louis’ hair, leaning him back on the back seat with care.

Louis was also very uncomfortable as he shifted under Harry’s weight, pressing down on him everywhere while his head kept knocking against the car door repeatedly.

“Haz,” Louis pants as Harry brings his lips down to his neck to start leaving love bites there. “Why are we in a car again?” Harry’s breathing against his neck and Louis feels himself shiver despite the fact that it’s summer and fucking hot outside. Harry presses a light kiss over one of the marks Louis knows he’ll try and fail to hide.

“It’s romantic,” Harry replies, nipping softly at his ear. Louis moans, twisting his hands in Harry’s shirt. They’ve been dating for almost four months now and Louis still can't get enough of the curly-headed idiot. Louis sighs when Harry presses another light kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“It’s a fucking cliché,” Louis mumbles as Harry’s hand travel upward under Louis’ shirt. Fucking hell. Harry gives a light laugh at his response.

“That’s what makes it romantic,” he replies, still kissing every inch of his skin. Louis rolls his eyes and shifts a bit. Of course, he hits his head against the car door once again and sighs. He doesn’t exactly want to stop Harry’s constant attention, but this whole head-knocking-against-the-car-door bullshit was getting tiring. Louis sighs once more. “Harry, can we just go inside?”

Harry pulls himself up to look down at Louis and gives a small pout. “But why, Louis?” Louis rolls his eyes.

“I’m just saying that if we continue, I may or may not get a head concussion from all of this damn head banging,” he replies, gesturing with his head toward the offending door above his viewpoint. Harry’s eyes flick to the door and his pout dissipates.

“Oh. Well, okay. We can continue this inside?” Harry does some stupid ridiculous eyebrow thing and Louis laughs, bringing Harry back down for another kiss. Honestly. Fuck this boy.

“Yeah, obviously. But this time, we can do it in a place where I’ll actually be comfortable! Imagine that!” Louis exclaims sarcastically. Harry narrows his eyes at him and gets off of him, sliding out of the door like that. Louis’ too surprised to actually do anything at first, but he does turn his head to watch Harry skipping into his flat with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Louis fucking loves him.

“Twat,” he mumbles, smiling giddily before scrambling out of the car to follow after Harry.

It’s definitely something he could get used to.

Louis just smiles.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 7 months, 10 days.**

Louis wakes up the sound of a loud crash and a “oh fuck”. He blinks, stretching his arms out, not quite wanting to get up and not fully understanding what’s going on. He’s surrounded in darkness and he can hear his own breaths disappearing into the air. Fuck. He wonders what the hell just happened, but whatever it is—it’s fucking annoying. He sighs and rolls over, deciding on going back to sleep, but then he hears another loud crash and Louis bolts up.

Harry. Oh right. That’s Harry. The Harry he hasn’t actually gotten to sleep next to in three days because Harry either got “too drunk” or “had work” or “just accidentally crashed on Niall’s bed”. Louis rolls his eyes and spins and puts his feet on the ground, staring at the undoubtedly cold surface while listening to Harry crash into things, cursing each time he does so.

He stands up and yawns, making his way to the living room, partially afraid of what he’ll see.

Opening the door causes the nerves to shoot up his arms and he takes a deep breath, hearing another “fuck” and then “oh shit” slip from Harry’s lips as a particularly loud crash follows and smashes. Louis thinks it’s the vase that Harry bought him when they moved into together because “buying vases is the most homecoming you can get”.

Louis remembers rolling his eyes fondly and giving him a slap on the ass as he walked away with the vase to try and find a place to put the useless, horrifyingly dull thing.

Louis doesn’t think that this conversation will end like that. Fuck.

“Harry? You alright?” he asks, turning into the living room to find Harry sprawled out on the couch, looking miserably drunk and fucked. Louis can feel his stomach turn over and he has to bring a hand up to his face to wipe away a tear that had managed to escape. Fucking tears.

Harry leans his head all the way back and looks up at Louis, turning Louis into an upside portrait probably. Louis hates it.

“Oh hi Louis. Are you here to yell at me some more?” he slurs, his eyes glazing over. Louis crosses his arms. Fuck him. Seriously.

“You drunk?” Louis pipes in, making it clear to Harry that he knows that he is. Harry just nods and studies him for a moment before burping once. Louis rolls his eyes.

Harry keeps his gaze and finally says, “How come you don’t have sex with me anymore?”

Louis narrows his eyes and gives Harry a slow once-over.

“What are you talking about?” Louis asks. “We had sex a week ago.”

Harry’s eyes seem to glaze over even more, but he still manages to snort out, “That wasn’t sex, Louis. You came like three minutes into it and that was mainly because you haven’t done it in such a long time. It wasn’t even enjoyable. Fuck.”

That’s it. That right there was what made it all go to complete and utter shit and Louis’ probably kidding himself if he doesn’t think that wasn’t how it was before. Louis hates himself for letting this go on so long and all he wants to do is cry. Fuck.

“Well, sorry if I don’t put out like all of the other people you’ve been fucking, _Harold_ ,” Louis snarls and it’s as if Louis’ seeing it in slow motion.

Everything is slow and he watches Harry blink. Once. Twice. He lets out a breath, eyes still wide and afraid. It’s all slow as Harry seems to open his mouth to say something and Louis wishes—god, how he fucking prays for it all to be just his imagination running wild—but Harry doesn’t fucking correct him.

Louis is seeing stars—everything was too blindingly obvious and it just hurts so incredibly much—and he moves over to the chair at the dining table and sits down because he knows if he keeps standing, he’s going to collapse just as easily as his heart right now.

Fuck.

Harry’s next to him, he realizes. They’re not touching and Louis can’t seem to breathe. Harry hasn’t said a word, or maybe he has and Louis just didn’t hear him.

Louis doesn’t want to hear him so instead he thinks of songs. He thinks of random songs just to tune out what seems to be coming out of Harry’s mouth because fuck. He doesn’t want to know. He wishes he didn’t know.

No, he wishes that Harry never even did it in the first place.

Louis sits there, thinking of lyrics and sad songs and wondering if they ever felt heartbreak quite like this. They must have, right? They wrote songs about them. Maybe Louis should write a song, but when Harry reaches out to grab his hand, Louis realizes he doesn’t want to write some stupid fucking song.

He wants to kiss Harry and not smell somebody else on him. He wants to sleep next to Harry again. He wants to go back to when Harry wasn’t doing this and fuck—how long has it been?

Harry’s still talking, it seems, but really, it’s just a dull ringing in his ears because all Louis can hear is his heart beating loudly in his chest like fucking drums.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Harry’s crying now.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Louis thinks he is too.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Harry’s hand should feel cold, but instead it’s warm. He hates it.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Louis lets go.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Harry is standing up and Louis can’t fucking breathe.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Harry’s leaving and Louis thinks he says something about tomorrow but Louis doesn’t understand.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. He just doesn’t understand.

Ba ba-bump. Ba ba-bump. Ba ba ba-bump. Ba-bump bump. It seems as if his heart has broken.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 7 months, 11 days**

Louis is writing when he hears the knock on his door. It rings in the air, filling the room with an ominous tension and Louis takes a deep breath, his fingers going still on the keyboard. He doesn’t even know how long he’s been writing—he just knows he’s been doing it for a while and that the sun has already gone down again since he has.

His stomach growls uncomfortably as he stands up and heads to the door, pushing his greasy hair from his eyes, which have already started to hurt from all the crying he did. Pathetic, honestly.

He opens the door without bothering to care too much about who it is (even though he thinks he already knows) and reveals Harry, standing there, looking puffy, tear-stained, and miserable. Like a lost fucking puppy. Like a lost fucking puppy that cheated on their partner with another puppy. Or cat. Ha. Harry’s bisexual. It could definitely have been a cat. The fucker.

Louis sniffs and glares at him, crossing his arms self-consciously across his chest. Harry’s eyes flicker to his arms, noticing the gesture. Harry took a year in psychology. He knows what body gesture means. Louis glares at him. Good.

“There are a million clichés going on right now, Styles,” is what Louis finally allows himself to say and damn, is he proud at himself for not bursting into tears. Harry’s eyes meet Louis’ and his green gaze holds Louis’. Louis fucking hates him.

“Are you here to apologize? Or here to grovel? Or perhaps you’re here to star as the bad ex in this show of ours that I try to get over before I meet someone better. Or are you here to just leave? I mean, it’s not like you haven’t done worse, right? How long has it been? Fuck. I’ve suspected for _months_ , Harry. _Months._ And I’m an idiot for trying to delude myself into thinking that you were actually a good person. Someone who loved me because that’s what you said, remember? That you loved me? By the way, don’t try to fucking tell me you still do because people who love each other don’t _fuck other people while dating them._ "

Harry grimaces. Louis doesn't care.

"Almost eight years, Harry! Eight! That’s how long we’ve been together and fuck, I was wanting to propose to you a few months back before you came home and smelled like somebody else! You didn’t even act guilty! You just strutted around in your stupid fucking clothes and flirted with anyone who would have you because Harry that’s what you were when we first met and that’s who you are now—the nicest fucking whore I’ve ever met. And I love you! I love you so fucking much, you _utter prick!_ I love you! Fuck, is that what it was? Did I love you too much? What _happened?!_ ” Louis’ screaming, shaking and he feels his fists in Harry’s shirt and he feels the tears soaked on his and it doesn’t fucking matter because Harry’s just so fucking warm and Louis doesn’t understand why he wants to punch Harry repeatedly and then kiss him all better.

Harry looks wrecked and he just continues to hold onto Louis’ arms so fragilely almost as if he’s scared that Louis will break. Well, he’s too late. Louis’ already fucking broken.

“I’m so sorry, Louis,” is all Harry manages before Louis cuts him off.

“I fucking hate you,” he all but whispers. “I _hate you!_ You utter _fuck!_ ”

“Lou—” Harry chokes out but _no_ , Louis won’t let him.

“Shut the fuck up and leave, Harry,” Louis says, twisting himself away from Harry's grasp. He doesn’t want to want to be near him and how to do that is to remove the problem. And Harry is the problem here, not him. Harry stands, tears brimming and Louis can’t bring himself to fucking care at the moment. He can’t care. He absolutely cannot.

“Louis, please we need to tal—”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t want to hear shit because ultimately, how many people you fucked and how long you’ve been doing it doesn’t change the fact that you still did it. _You still did it,_ Haz, and I fucking hate you so much you don’t fucking understand. I am mad at you. I am mad at me for not confronting this stupid shit problem sooner and I need to go inside now. Yeah. I need to go inside. I am going to write, Harry. You get that? I’m going to write and become fucking amazing and amaze the world and you’ll be there, screaming from whatever shitty building you’re in about how I don’t even work. You’ll be there, fucking your heart out with people who don’t love you and will never love you like I did and I _won’t care._ I will not allow myself to care and I love you so much, but I will never trust you again. Don’t you fucking understand that? _Never._ So, please _fucking leave_ ,” Louis hisses, his hands practically turning white from how hard he’s gripping the side of his door.

Harry stands frozen, pale and beautifully wrong, tears still rolling down from his eyes. Louis briefly wonders if he even’s aware of the fact that’s he’s crying, but before he can let himself think even more about Harry’s wellbeing, he shuts the door.

He shuts the door and walks back to his dining table.

He writes and writes because frankly, Louis’ realized that reality is a far shittier world.

So, Louis writes.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 7 months, 23 days**

It’s been nearly two weeks and Louis’ writing a lot. God, he doesn’t even know what the hell he’s writing but it’s all he can bring himself to do. When he wakes up, the first thing that always comes to his mind is how cold he feels and where Harry is so to bring himself away from his own thoughts, he writes. He writes about happiness and love and everything that he can’t bring himself to feel. The boys have been calling him every day, leaving him worried messages and promises to come over.

When they do come over, no one does anything. They try to talk to Louis but all Louis can bring himself to think about is what he’s going to write next. He doesn’t even know. As long as he doesn’t think about Harry.

So, they stopped coming over as much. Maybe, once every two days. They still call him though.

Louis never picks up.

Is this what he’s supposed to feel like after all of this? Is he still supposed to think about Harry in the times that even writing isn’t enough? Is he supposed to shut himself down? Does he go out and get into another relationship?

Louis doesn’t know. He wasted nearly eight years on Harry and he can’t even fucking remember what it’s like to be single. He can’t remember not telling someone to go out and buy milk. He can’t remember what it was like when he lived on microwave meals because for the past eight years, he’s had someone who’s practically a god in the kitchen for him. He had someone to wake him up or motivate him when he doesn’t want to write. He had someone to compliment him at the times where he thought he wasn’t showing that he was feeling self-conscious.

He can’t fucking remember what it’s like to not have any of that. It’s been ripped away from him by the harsh hands of reality and Louis just wants to cry. Why hasn’t he fucking cried more? He’s barely cried. Only that first day. That was the only time.

Isn’t he supposed to cry more? Or is it him? Is it because of him that he’s not crying?

Maybe, Louis’ just too afraid to cry because he knows that if he finally gives in and cries, he might die just a little more in the inside as well.

And Louis knows that he can’t afford to die.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 8 months, 2 days**

Liam has gotten a new job it seems. Louis learns this when he calls him and invites him to a lads' night out at JR’s, a club that’s drinks are too expensive. Louis almost wants to decline but the happiness in Liam’s voice makes him stop himself from declining. It’d be good for him, right? He hasn’t gone out in almost three weeks. Maybe, he should let himself do this.

“Zayn invited Harry, Lou,” Liam says and then Louis’ thoughts stop. Harry. Harry. Haz. His ex-boyfriend. Not boyfriend, but ex-boyfriend. Because Harry cheated on him. Harry. Louis sucks in a breath and he can hear the long pause on Liam’s end. Liam’s waiting for him to say something, but Louis doesn’t want to speak.

Fuck. He needs to be more prepared for this.

Louis lets out his breath and says, “Well, okay. I’m still coming though.”

Liam lets out a breath of his in return. “You are? That’s…that’s great, Louis!”

Louis nods. “Yeah. I’ll see you there, Li. Bye.” He hangs up before Liam can even say goodbye and Louis sits down on the couch. _‘Harry and him have made love on this couch before’,_ he thinks before he can stop himself.

Louis immediately stands up and glares down at it for a second before his glare slowly dissolves into a frown. ‘ _Where did Harry and whoever he cheated on Louis with have sex?_ ’ Louis shakes his head and looks at the clock. Eight hours until the “lads' night out” and Louis already hates the day.

He should just write. Yeah. Writing sounds good.

How pathetic. 

—

Louis realizes that he’s wearing Harry’s jumper as soon as he steps out of the bus.

Fuck.

He didn’t even realize it when he was putting it on, too distracted by his thoughts to stop thinking about getting too dressed up. He didn’t want Harry to think that he could have possibly been getting dressed up for him, but he also didn’t want to think he was some slag, so he just grabbed a jumper without even looking at it.

This is even worse though, so obviously, Louis’ an idiot. Louis halfway considered running into a store to buy a new one, but he looked down at his watch and once he realizes he’s already late by almost thirty minutes, he’s already walking toward the club. The wait in the queue is less than five minutes and when Louis gets inside, he immediately spots Liam in their usual spot.

Liam’s cuddled into Zayn’s side, looking rather dashing and Niall’s sitting next to Zayn. Louis stops walking upon noticing Harry next to Niall and seeing how he looks absolutely fucking stunning.

Louis fucking hates him.

The strobe lights are bright and annoying and even more so because every other second it hits Harry just right and his hair is shining and everything about him looks fucking beautiful. And it isn’t fair. It’s not fair that Harry can look that tired and worn out and still look beautiful. Louis’ eyes widen when he realizes that Harry does in fact look that worn out and tired.

Louis secretly hopes that it’s because of him, but his thoughts also automatically go to the fact that it could be that he’s just too busy fucking some boy or girl every night that he hasn’t been able to get too much sleep. Before, Louis would never think that of him, even when he first met Harry, but Louis can’t bring himself to even think that he knows who Harry Styles is now. Except a mistake.

Louis blinks once…twice…and three more times before he finally musters up his own dignity and self-worth to make his way over there.

Of course, it has to be Harry who sees him first. Green eyes meet blue and Louis can’t fucking breathe. He didn’t want this. He doesn’t want this. Him and Harry were supposed to be invited together. They were supposed to come here or forget _together_. He watches as Harry scans him over and then over again, eyes widening when he sees what Louis’ wearing.

 _Fuck, he looks so good’_ , Louis thinks.

Louis hates him.

“Louis!” Niall shouts, obviously already drunk off his mind. Great. Now, everyone knows he’s here so he can't escape.

“Oh, Louis, you’re here!” Liam exclaims as soon as Louis finally gets over to their table. Louis tugs at his jumper (well, Harry’s jumper) self-consciously and manages to keep his eyes on Liam and Zayn, who appear happy yet cautious now that he’s appeared.

“Hey, Liam and course I am! Did I not say that I would be coming?” Louis asks, forcing a smile. Everyone notices, but nobody comments. It’s Zayn’s turn to force out some semblance of a smile.

“Hey, Louis,” he says softly. “Good to see you, mate.” His words are earnest and true and Louis wants to hug him.

“Good to see you too, Zaynie,” Louis says, a real smile tugging at his lips. Zayn rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything else, and then it’s awkward again. It’s as if they’re all walking on eggshells around him and Louis hates it. Yet, he’s also walking on eggshells; whether it’s for him or Harry, he doesn’t know.

When Louis has finally decided to not speak to Harry the entire night, Harry, of course, says something. Fuck, he just has to say something, doesn’t he?

“Hi, Louis,” Harry says. It’s a small greeting, filled with uneasiness and it chills Louis to the very core. He can hear the background music, loud and obnoxious—it’s something that he’d play around the house only to annoy Harry who’s the pinnacle of hipster shit. He focuses back on said boy instead and realizes that he’s supposed to say something despite the fact that he decided against it not even a minute ago.

“Harry,” is all Louis says, not even turning to face him. He doesn’t want to be here. Why did he agree to be here? Louis tugs at his jumper again, noticing Harry’s eyes to flicker down to his movements in his peripheral vision. Louis knows Harry and he knows that Harry will mention his stupid mistake of clothing at least once tonight.

Louis just really hopes that he won’t be an arse and keep quiet instead.

Unfortunately, Louis’ always been known for how well he knows some things about Harry.

“You’re wearing my jumper,” Harry says and by the look on his face, Louis can tell that he automatically regretted it. Louis looks down at Harry’s jumper and then back up at him, ready to tell him that he really didn’t notice, but then he realizes that there was no point.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Didn’t know that’d be a problem when you fucked someone else behind my back, Styles.” Harry’s obviously shocked and maybe even hurt, but before Louis even gives him the chance to respond, he’s facing Liam again. He leans down and startles Liam when he pulls him in for a hug. “Congrats on the job, Li. I’m actually not really feeling today after all. I’m gonna go, okay?”

Liam nods, dumbstruck, and Louis pulls away. “See you, Zaynie.”

“Bye, Louis. See you later,” Zayn replies, frowning worriedly at the two them.

Niall is sad, it seems and he pulls Louis in for a hug as well, smelling of beer and sweat. Louis hugs him back and then pulls away.

“Bye, mates,” he says, pointedly ignoring Harry.

He turns to walk out, ignoring the catcalls at him and the few pushes he gets. He’s irritated at himself for coming and being the one to leave.

But mostly, he’s irritated because no matter how much he hates Harry right now, he’s still wishing to feel Harry pulling him back and stop him from leaving.

He knows that Harry won’t though because even though he doesn’t know who this new Harry is, he knows those things about him.

When Louis gets back on the bus to head home, he finds himself still feeling sad about not being pulled back.

All he needs is for someone to hold onto him, but all he’s receiving are open hands that can’t seem to hold on. He’s floating away.

Louis can’t find it in him to care too much.

∂∂∂∂

**3 years, 5 months, 18 days**

"Harold, I am not a child,” Louis grumbles as Harry starts to literally tuck Louis into their bed. Harry smirks at him.

“No, but you are sick, and to me, the only difference is age. I’m going to take care of you, Boobear,” he murmurs fondly, tugging on a loose strand of Louis’ hair. Louis huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Harry coos and rubs his nose in Louis’ stomach. Louis manages to keep a straight face somehow. He loves when Harry does this for him and Harry knows it. Whatever. He still doesn’t have to admit it.

"Well, fine. Are you making me food since I’m sick?” he pouts. Harry pulls back and rolls his eyes.

"I’m always making food for you regardless of whether you’re sick or not,” he says. Louis’ pout only grows more pronounced and Harry kisses his nose. Louis swats at him.

“You’ll get sick, Haz,” he mutters. Harry just grins and turns around to grab at something. Louis can’t see it so he just pouts more. Pouting is his way of winning and besides, he’s allowed to use this tactic. Harry uses it all the damn time. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna read to you,” is Harry’s reply and Louis raises an eyebrow.

“You’re going to read to me?”

“Yup,” Harry says, turning to face him again, hiding the book behind his back. He has that stupid shit-eating grin on his face again and Louis wants to smack him. Twat.

Louis indulges him anyway. “Fine. What is it?”

Harry grins and pulls out with a joyous look on his face. “Harry Potter!” he exclaims.

Louis lets out a loud laugh at how excited Harry looks and ruffles his hair fondly. God, this boy is such an idiot.

“You’re going to read me Harry Potter?” Louis asks and Harry just nods.

“Harry Potter will cure you, Lou. Just you watch,” Harry deadpans, his eyes dancing with laughter. God, Louis loves him so fucking much.

Louis smiles, giddy. “Okay then. Read me Harry Potter.”

Harry smiles at him, dimples shining and Louis watches him open the first book, a serious expression on Harry’s face. Harry clears his throat and peeks up at Louis who in turn just smiles fondly at him.

“The Boy…Who Lived!” Harry dramatically starts and Louis pushes him. Harry grins at him. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense….”

Louis closes his eyes, feeling the warm presence of Harry next to him and hearing the slow drawl of each word that comes out of Harry’s mouth with a pleased happiness. He smiles at each imitation of the Dursley’s and Harry places one of his hands on Louis’ in the midst of his reading.

And Louis falls asleep soon after to Harry’s warm voice and the love he has for him in his heart.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 8 months, 8 days**

Louis’ drunk when he calls Zayn.

“Zayn, let’s go out right now,” he slurs into the phone.

“Louis? You drunk?” Zayn asks and Louis rolls his eyes at how worried Zayn sounds. Honestly. He is not a fucking child.

“Maybe a little. That’s why we need to go out. I’m tired of writing about happy things. I want to go find my own happiness,” Louis says, eyes focused on an ant on the floor. Or maybe that’s a raisin. Wait, no. Louis doesn’t even have any fucking raisins so why would there be a raisin on the floor? Maybe, he does have raisins. He can’t remember. Harry is the one who would buy raisins being the health nut that he is. Does he still buy raisins?

Zayn cuts into his thoughts momentarily with, “Fine. Where do you want to go?”

“Zayn? Who thought of making raisins?”

“Loui—”

“I mean, why _the fuck_ would someone decide to dry out grapes and make raisins?”

“I don’t know, Louis,” Zayn sighs and Louis sort of hates him.

“I want to dance,” is all Louis offers him and he hears Zayn sigh again.

“So, do you want to go to a club? Are you going to try to pick up some guy?” Zayn asks and suddenly, Louis’ blood goes cold. Is that what he’s supposed to do? Is it already time? How long is he supposed to stay single? Suddenly, he feels incredibly sober again. Fuck.

“No. Never mind. I don’t want to dance. Sorry, Z. I’ll talk to you later,” Louis hurries out and before Zayn can respond, Louis’ already hung up.

Louis’ on his couch and he hates this couch. He hates everything in this fucking flat, but instead, he just brings his legs up to his chest and rests his chin on his knees.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes out. Another boy. He could do that. He could go out and get so drunk and just forget all of his problems in the arms of some other boy, but he doesn’t know if he even wants to do that. What the hell is he supposed to do?

He wonders what Harry’s doing. Is he doing this? Is he even contemplating anything about fucking another person? Probably not…considering the fact he still did it while he was still “with” Louis.

Fuck. When did his Harry leave him like that? Why did he leave like that?

_What the fuck did he do wrong?_

Louis takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to be here. Harry should not be so important to him. He should not be so important to him.

Louis repeats that phrase at least a hundred more times while sitting down and yet, in the end, he falls asleep with the thought of _‘but, he is’_ lingering in his mind.

He is.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 8 months, 12 days**

Everything is quiet. Louis swears it is. He walked this morning, passing women running with their dogs and people talking too loud on their phones and yet, Louis couldn’t hear a sound. It’s as if everything shut off and Louis thinks that’s ridiculous because he’s fine, isn’t he?

It’s been nearly a month since Harry moved out and Louis is fine.

He has to be fine.

(He’s not.)

Louis gets on a train to France and he doesn’t even know why. He doesn’t know anybody in France. Why in the hell is he going to France?

(Because it was the last place he went with Harry.)

Louis won’t admit that and instead, rests his head on the window, watching the water beneath them. It's fucking beautiful and Louis takes a quick picture of it. 

And everything is just so fucking quiet. Louis needs a drink or something. Something to pass the time and yet, his mind won’t allow him to move.

What is he supposed to be doing? How does he take back nearly eight years?

Why did he have to meet Harry?

How different would Louis be if he never met the curly-headed boy?

Would Louis even know what he was missing out on? Did he miss out on anything?

Fuck.

It may be quiet, but all Louis can hear are his own questions.

This silence is unbearable.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 8 months, 23 days**

Louis was in France for about two days and he can’t even remember what he did there. He thinks he just walked around, subconsciously visiting each place that Harry dragged him to last time. He thinks he took a few photos of some happy couples reasoning that it’s because it could be used as inspiration for something in his story, but he’s pretty sure it’s because he’s trying to find something in what was Harry and Louis when they visited last year.

When he gets back to London, he starts drinking.

It’s not a conscious action. He just went to the bar when he got back and kept going back. He drinks a lot, but Louis doesn’t care.

The bartender that always seems to be there to serve him frowns at him more often than not and Louis sometimes thinks about telling his story to him. Isn’t that what drunks do in bars? Tell their stories eventually?

Louis honestly has no idea.

Zayn finds out first, yelling at him when he has to pick him up from the bar because Louis passed out and happened to have Zayn’s card on him.

Zayn says a whole lot of shit to him too. Something about how the way Louis’ acting affects all of them. Something about how Harry’s pretty screwed up too and wants to apologize. Something about something else and Louis just remembers throwing up in the middle of Zayn’s temper tantrum. Also laughing.

Louis thinks he laughed the entire time Zayn was yelling at him but he isn’t sure because he hasn’t seen Zayn since that day and hasn’t gotten the chance to ask him.

Louis thinks about calling Harry more often now and it’s become a problem. How is he doing? He just wants to know. He wants to find out that Harry is doing spectacularly sometimes because Louis can admit to himself that he’s pathetic and still holds onto him.

He reasons it’s because he doesn’t know what else to hold onto, but really it’s just because Louis loves him so fucking much.

Louis hates him.

He also wants Harry to be doing poorly. He wants to hear that Harry hasn’t left the house because he’s so distraught. He wants Harry to miss him and come over to beg for his forgiveness.

Somehow, Louis doubts that Harry’s feeling either way right now. Fuck. Harry’s probably at home, singing some stupid song or taking a shower and using way too much shampoo like he always does.

“ _It’s just because I have a lot of hair, Lou_ ,” is the excuse that Louis always got when he would tease Harry about using three people’s worth of shampoo and Louis sort of misses that.

He hates himself.

Louis’ still writing; about what, he does not know. Sometimes, he takes his computer outside on the porch and writes about the moon loving the sun. Sometimes, he writes about a girl loving her best friend. Sometimes, he writes bad poems about stupid things such as potted plants and pillows, but Louis doesn’t know what to do.

He’s just so fucking confused and conflicted and basically everything he always claimed he wouldn’t be when first meeting a boy.

It’s not fucking fair and Louis takes a swig of his beer. It’s bad and it leaves an awful taste in his mouth, but really, doesn’t everything?

Fuck. He’d rather complain about bad-tasting beer than his own life.  

He takes another drink.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 8 months, 29 days**

His name is Adam and he’s cute and tall and sweet and not Harry. They met at a club, followed by a blowjob in the bathroom and a quick fuck at Adam’s house. Louis still doesn’t know how he did it without sobbing throughout half of it, but when he woke up the next morning, he just left, feeling too guilty for his liking.

It wasn’t until he got home that he realized there was absolutely no reason for Louis to feel guilty.

When Adam texted him a few hours later asking where he went (because apparently Louis gave him his phone number last night), Louis wanted so badly to ignore it, but he didn’t know why he should.

There was no reason for him not to continue anything with Adam and Adam was very sweet to him, so, Louis called him back.

Now, Louis is here, listening to Adam blabber on about his brother when he set his underwear on fire while Louis sips on his cold tea. (It was sort of disgusting, but Louis didn’t want to complain on the first date he’s been on since Harry.)

“Eventually, he told Mum that it wasn’t me and I didn’t get in trouble. He got his computer taken away from him for almost a month though,” Adam ends, laughter in his voice. Louis gives him a small smile, not wanting to admit that he had zoned out halfway through. That’s not something you’re supposed to do on first dates, right?

Louis can’t fucking remember and he hates Harry for it.

“Louis? You still with me?” Adam cuts in again, a nervous lilt in his tone. Louis smiles again and sets his tea down.

“Yeah. Sorry, mate. I got sort of lost in my thoughts there,” Louis explains.

Adam gives an awkward laugh. “Hope I wasn’t boring you….”

“No, no. Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date. Forgive me if I’m inexperienced,” Louis apologizes. There. That sounds good, right? (Who is he even asking?)

Adam lets out a visible sigh of relief and replies, “Oh. Well, okay good, I guess. Wait, how come you haven’t been on a date? You’re like…fucking gorgeous.” Adam turns red and Louis would think it’s cute if he wasn’t too busy thinking about Adam’s lack of dimples. Fuck. He needs to stop thinking about Harry and…wait, what did Adam ask? Shit. Harry.

Louis gives an awkward, forced smile. “Yeah. Just got out of a long relationship.”

“How long?” Adam asks and Louis sort of wants to kindly tell him to shut the fuck up and mind his own business, but he bites his tongue, supposing that that probably isn’t good first date etiquette either.

"Oh. Erm…almost eight years,” Louis says, looking down. Adam lets out a small gasp and Louis can feel his hands clenching.

Is Harry dating somebody now? Does Harry even miss him? Is he dating whoever he fucked when they were dating?

_What’s Harry doing now?_

Adam clears his throat and Louis snaps his gaze back up to him. Suddenly, he’s not okay to the idea of dating somebody else. “That’s a long time, Louis. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. It’s fine,” Louis replies even though it’s really not fine at all. He wants to leave. God, he wants to leave. He just wants to go home and get in his bed and _not_ hold Harry’s old pillow close to him and sleep. Why is he here?

“Can…can I ask why the two of you broke up?” Adam asks and Louis wants to reply and he wants to say all the bad and good things about himself. He wants to allow himself to fall in love with this man, but he can’t. He just…can’t.

“Adam…I’m so sorry. Is it okay if I go? I just…I’m so so sorry. I just realized that I don’t think I’m exactly ready for another relationship. Please forgive me. I’ll pay,” Louis says and Adam takes in his words for a few seconds before giving a somber nod with a slight smile on his lips.

“It’s fine, Louis. I could tell you weren’t all for this whole dating thing yet. Sorry if I pressured you into doing anything,” he replies and Louis gives him a wide smile. Leaning over, he presses a light kiss on Adam’s cheek and others might think Louis’ flirting with him, but both him and Adam know that it’s a good-bye from kiss from Louis. Also, maybe a sort of “thank you” kiss as well.

Louis pays for their dinner and they say good-bye, Adam flushing when Louis says that he really is a sweet guy.

It would be cute and nice if Louis wasn’t thinking about Harry the entire fucking time. Harry. Harry. Haz. Hazzbear. Fuck.

Louis hates him so so much and it isn’t fair.

 _It isn’t fucking fair_ that Harry gets to have this power to make Louis hurt so much. Why does it have to hurt so _fucking much?!_

Louis watches the stars as he walks home and he names every single one after something that resembles Harry.

He decides that he hates the stars too.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 9 months, 4 days**

Louis learns from Niall that Harry hasn’t seen anybody since they’ve broken up.

It wasn’t intentional, Louis thinks. The lads invited him out to another lad’s night out sort of thing and this time, they don’t invite Harry.

Louis’ feels sort of happy is the thing and it’s when he’s hanging onto Niall singing the lyrics of Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl” into his ear that Niall lets it slip.+

Niall was laughing his arse off and Louis felt that maybe he could do this…until Niall said something about girls and then said something about how so many of them would flirt with Harry now. Louis had tensed, but Niall didn’t feel him and kept talking.

So, Louis learned that Harry hasn’t seen anyone. He hasn’t even had sex with anyone apparently…and Louis doesn’t know how he’s supposed to receive that type of news.

It’s not fair. He can’t feel guilty about Adam when Harry fucked somebody else _behind Louis’ back._

It’s not the same thing.

(So, why does it feel like it is?)

Louis lets go of Niall then and stumbles his way across to that same bartender he sees every single fucking time (he still hasn’t learned his name) and asks for something strong. He doesn’t even say what. He just says, “Something to help me forget everything.” The bartender hands him something in a shot glass and Louis downs it before he can even ask what it is and he can feel the bartender’s eyes on him, probably judging him.

Fuck, Louis’ judging himself right now. What is he doing?

He wonders, yet again, what Harry is doing right now.

Then, Louis is walking, shoving people out of the way, and he finds himself in the bathroom. Pulling out his phone, he leans against the wall and finds Harry’s name.

(He shouldn’t call him.)

(But he knows he will.)

He’s calling him before Louis can stop himself, before Louis can truly start hating himself and Harry once again.

He thinks it should mean something that Harry picks up on the second ring, but Louis doubts that it does. A lot of things he thought meant something between him and Harry probably don’t mean anything.

“Louis?” Harry’s voice is grating and Louis just wants to hate him.

“Harry Styles! Do you know who this is?”

“Louis,” Harry replies, voice laced with something that Louis would probably identify as worry before; now, he doesn’t know.

“Tell me Haz…was it a boy or girl?” And Louis needs to know. He needs to know because he knows that Harry is less attracted to women, but he’s just so fucking afraid of what the answer will be. If it’s a man, that could mean it was something more…fuck, that could also be how it was with the woman, if it’s a woman.

“Loui—”

Louis cuts him off. “Man…or woman?”

“It was a woman,” Harry finally replies and Louis allows a silence fill in everything he wants to shout at Harry right now. He can hear Harry’s breaths over the line; Louis wonders where he is.

“How old?” Louis asks.

“I don’t know…she looked a little older than me,” he replies and Louis feels like crying for the first time since that first time.

“Bye, Harry,” Louis sighs before he can even try to say something else. He just wants all of this to be done. Why does everything have to be so fucking complicated?

He never wanted Harry to break his heart.

∂∂∂∂ 

**7 years, 9 months, 20 days**

A little over two weeks later, Louis starts to think everything is getting better. He’s back to writing sad things again, which means that he doesn’t view his life as so sad. He stops wondering so much how Harry is doing and they haven’t spoken since Louis drunkenly called him in that bar’s bathroom.

Louis thinks he might be starting to move on when he doesn’t change the radio station to a different channel when one of Harry’s favorite songs comes on. He thinks he’s starting to move on when he finally changes Harry’s pillowcase.

He thinks it’s going to be good and he’s excited for the idea of a new life.

Louis is finally starting to move on.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 9 months, 21 days**

Until he isn’t.

One phone call is all it takes to have Louis running.

They told him that Harry was a hero for doing what he did. A girl, barely sixteen, struggling against a 25-year-old man in an alley, was saved by Harry. It was Zayn who called him and Louis doesn’t even know how he got ready so quickly. Did he even get ready? Did he just run out and hail a cab?

They told him that the man hit Harry over the head with a garbage can and Harry collapsed, but not before the girl had managed to call 999. They told him that Harry was knocked out completely and that he’s in a hospital. They told him all of this shit that Louis can’t even fucking remember and Louis is just wondering why he isn’t there with him. Louis is just wondering why Harry had to be the sweetest person on this earth to do that.

Louis is wondering why he thinks that about someone who cheated on him.

(Louis still hates him though.)

(He has to.)

—

When Louis arrives at the hospital, he realizes that he’s crying for the first time in months. Liam gets to him first and Louis’ just sobbing. Fuck, why is he crying so much? Why does he have to be crying so much?

Liam’s rubbing circles on Louis’ back and Louis is shaking, crying, breaking in a room filled with people who don’t know him.

Why couldn’t Harry just be okay?

“I’m scared,” Louis sobs, realizing it as soon as he said it. It’s true. He’s scared. He’s fucking terrified. He’s everything he’s tried not to be over the past few months and all he wants is to hold Harry’s hand. He wants to scream at Harry for breaking his heart and then scaring him like this. He wants to—oh, god, is he going to be okay?

Zayn and Niall are suddenly there and Louis realizes he’s sitting down. When did that happen? What about Harry?

“Harry?” Louis manages to choke out. “Is he okay? What the fuck is happening to him?”

Zayn answers with, “They’re working on him now.”

And that’s that. Nothing is really certain, it seems. Just “they’re working on him now” and Louis prays with all the force of an angry ex that Harry lives.

He has to fucking live.

Louis wants to say so much more, wants to cry so much more, wants to do something to help his friends, but he just keeps crying ugly sobs that he’d make fun of if it was aired on some stupid soap opera.

Louis hates love.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 9 months, 22 days**

When Harry wakes up, Louis is in the loo. As soon as he finishes, already heading back to the waiting room to find the other lads, he’s suddenly accosted by his friends.

“Louis, he woke up!” Niall exclaims and Louis blinks. He’s woken up already?

“Come on, Lou. They’re asking for us,” Liam adds and then, he’s being led to Harry’s room.

Fuck. No. Louis isn’t prepared for this. What happens now?

When they reach Harry’s door, Louis pauses.

“Can…you go in first? Please?” Louis asks, placing a hand on the wall. Liam opens his mouth to say something, but Zayn interrupts him.

“Yeah, sure. You’re going to come in eventually though, right?”

“Of course,” Louis says immediately. Louis frowns at his certainty. Well, it’s not as if he’ll just leave Harry with nothing except a “get well soon” card.

Zayn nods and opens the door, letting himself in, the other boys following suit. Louis sucks in a breath, hearing Harry say their names in surprise. He snorts slightly, noticing that the door is slightly ajar. Louis figures that Zayn left it open on purpose.

“Wait, where’s Lou?” Harry asks a few seconds after and Louis frowns at how Harry said that. Something is wrong.

“Er….” Louis hears Niall start to say, but Harry keeps talking.

"Wow, Zayn! You got a new haircut! I just saw you yesterday…did you get a haircut while you were waiting on me? Let me guess, Louis dared you?”

Okay. Something is definitely wrong here.

“What are you talk—” Zayn starts to question, but once again, Harry cuts him, the definition of hyperactivity.

“Seriously, guys. Where’s Louis? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, mate. Why wouldn’t he be?” Niall says, actually managing to get a full sentence in there.

“Ni, you look different too now that I’m looking at you. Haha. Did all of you get your hair cut while I was out? I’m not going to get a bald Louis walking in here, am I?”

“Mate, what the fuck are you talkin—” Zayn starts, but of course, Harry interrupts him again. Louis purses his lips. Harry’s acting like how he was a few years ago, when he was high on life.

Louis immediately stiffens, a horrible thought crossing his mind. No, come on. This shit only happens in movies and books, right?

Louis swings open the door and studies how Harry’s eyes light up when he sees him. That right there is how it was years ago, probably two or three years into their relationship, and all Louis wants to do now is cry. He watches Harry frown at Louis’ changed appearance and he opens his mouth to say something, obviously shocked.

“Louis…what…?”

“Harry, how long have we been dating?” is the first thing that flies out of Louis’ mouth. Louis has to know. Shit. Harry’s frown deepens at Louis’ question.

Shit.

“Two years and five months, why?” Harry asks, before looking around at the rest of the boys, who all have horrified expressions on their faces. “What’s going on?”

Louis can’t do this. He can’t _fucking do this._ He turns around and leaves.

“Doctor!”

—

Harry had a very severe case of short-term memory loss, it seems. Or at least that’s what the doctor said and if that isn’t every cliché wrapped up in one then someone pinch Louis awake. Louis doesn’t really think that a little more than five years lost equates to “short-term” memory loss, but hey, what does Louis know, right?

However, that isn’t the problem. The problem is that Harry thinks that Louis and him are still dating, and no matter how much Louis sort of wants to whack Harry to his senses and scream at him for making him so worried even though Harry cheated on him, his doctor highly recommends he not do that.

What do doctors even know like…fuck.

Harry hasn’t allowed Louis to leave his side since he went to go find the doctor and it’s just _too much._ Louis barely remembers what it was like not even two and half years into their relationship, but looking at Harry now, he wonders how he never noticed that something had changed over the years.

Harry’s practically radiating his love for Louis and Louis doesn’t know what to fucking do. What is he supposed to fucking do?!

Thankfully, the boys haven’t left his side all day so he doesn’t have to deal with any questions from Harry that he knows Harry would only ask him after this whole ordeal. They’ve called Anne, and she and Gemma are already on their way. He wonders if they know anything about him and Harry. Probably. Louis thinks about how he’s pretty much left his family in the dark about Harry.

Fuck, why didn’t he tell them?

(He didn’t tell them because how was his family supposed to handle it when Louis couldn’t even handle saying it?)

(It was a bad decision. Whatever.)

It’s strange to Louis seeing a Harry that just _looks_ so gone for him and hearing jokes come out of Harry’s mouth that Louis hasn’t heard in years.

It’s just so incredibly strange and Louis’ everything if not confused.

Harry tugs on his arm, a tired smile gracing his face and he blinks up at Louis with such love that Louis has to pull back, force a smile, and excuse himself for the loo.

And if he cries in a stall for ten minutes, nobody has to know.

Fuck.

∂∂∂∂

**4 years, 10 months, 18 days**

Louis had freaked the fuck out when he got a call telling him that his two sisters were in the hospital. He immediately imagined every worst case scenario and could already see himself crying over their dead, limp bodies and it didn’t do anything good for his mental health. He told Harry as soon as he got home and Harry just held him, assuring him that they’d be fine.

Apparently, they just got minor head concussions in a bus accident at their school that had Louis already planning out the school’s demise.

Harry said he’d come with him to the hospital (of course he had, he was a sweetheart) and when they arrived, Louis had managed to calm himself down.

It wasn’t the bad. That’s what the doctors said.

They were right.

It wasn’t that bad, and Louis felt as if he could breathe again. He got the news by the twins’ main doctor and he waited for Harry to come back from the loo to tell him the good news.

However, after five minutes and Harry still not being back, Louis figured something had happened and he stood up to see what was going on.

“Haz?” he asks, once entering the bathroom, but as far as he can see, there isn’t anybody in here. Louis frowns, a little concerned. He steps back out and takes a few steps before hearing Harry’s lovely voice come from a little down the hallway. Louis freezes. What’s Harry doing?

He walks toward Harry hesitantly and as he nears, he can hear his voice getting progressively clearer. He’s talking to somebody…he sounds sad?

When Louis gets to the door and peeks in, his stomach immediately drops and he understands why Harry sounded so sad.

Harry was talking to a little girl—had to be around the twins’ age—who was seated in a bed, not a trace of hair on her pretty little head.

Cancer. It has to be.

"Haz?” he asks before he can help himself, feeling a little guilty when Harry stops talking to the girl. Harry spins around immediately and fuck, Louis knows that look.

Harry is about to cry.

“Louis,” Harry replies and Louis immediately walks to him and puts an arm around his waist.

“Hey, Harry. Who’s your new girlfriend?” he teases, eyes flickering kindly to the girl. She giggles as she studies Louis and Louis feels his heart clench.

Cancer. Fuck. It isn’t fair that anyone should go through that, especially someone so young.

“I’m Lily,” the girl giggles, tilting her head down a bit. Louis smiles at her.

“Well, you certainly look like one too. Aren’t you just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Louis coos and Lily giggles again, this time flushing red. Louis tries his best not to think about her dying. Please, god no.

“I have to agree with Louis, Lily. You’re beautiful,” Harry chimes in and Lily is as red as a tomato and Louis thinks she really is beautiful.

‘ _Don’t think about her dying. Don’t think about her dying…._ ’ he thinks frantically.

Lily shakes her head. “I’m not pretty. All the boys at my school say that girls without any hair are ugly.”

Louis frowns. These “boys” sound like dicks. “Well, those boys are wrong because here you have two professional _men_ and we _both_ say that you are the most beautiful thing to ever grace this planet,” Louis says. Lily flushes beet red again and looks down.

Harry is squeezing his hand and Louis briefly wonders when they even started to hold hands. He squeezes back either way and manages a peek at Harry.

Fuck. He really does look as if he’ll break down any moment. Louis needs to do something.

Thankfully, a nurse comes in before Louis can say anything else. She stops, obviously surprised for a second, before frowning suspiciously at them.

“Uhm…Lily needs to get a check-up now so if you boys would move along now….”

Harry and Louis barely get a chance to say good-bye as they’re practically pushed out of the room.

Louis tries incredibly hard not to think about that beautiful girl in there dying.

Unfortunately, Harry breaking into tears not even five seconds out in the open doesn’t help. Louis can feel some of his own tears break through but he hastily wipes them away. He knows that neither one of them could handle the pair of them crying.

“Shh…Haz…shh….” Louis soothes, sitting them down and Harry wraps his arms around Louis completely as he starts to cry broken sobs into Louis’ shoulder.

This isn’t fucking fair.

“She…she is so young, Lou,” Harry cries into his shoulder and Louis can’t fucking cry. He will not allow it. Instead, he focuses on rubbing soothing circles on Harry’s back.

“I know, Haz. I know,” Louis whispers, still rubbing and Harry shivers, still crying.

“It’s not fair, Louis,” Harry mumbles.

“Yeah, it’s really not. I know.”

Harry cries for ten more minutes and Louis’ just gratefully he repeats in his head how thankful he is for his family that none of them have cancer.

It’s still not enough to make thoughts of Lily dying go away, but when Harry finally manages to pull himself together, Louis decides he needs to as well.

Death can wait.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 9 months, 24 days**

“You’re different,” is the first thing that comes out of Harry’s mouth when they finally reach Louis’ flat (“their” flat). Louis sighs.

“Yeah, I know, Haz,” he replies, glancing at Harry who’s studying him with a cute frown on his face. Okay. So one thing that Louis will have to get used to is the lack of some maturity that Harry has gained over the years. Well, maybe not considering he cheated on him. Okay, bad thoughts, leave those thoughts behind.

Harry’s still studying him when he parks in his parking space and Louis’ finally able to actually look at him and not worry about their imminent deaths.

“Did I change a lot, Lou?” Harry suddenly asks and Louis stiffens, barely able to keep himself from saying, “Yeah, you did. You actually cheated on me”.

Instead, he shrugs and says, “Not all too much, love. Your hipster shit music just changed a bit and your fashion went in phases.”

Harry grins at him. “The most recent thing I’ve discovered are headscarves, Louis! Wait…did that actually happen?”

Louis lets out a long-suffering sigh and Harry’s grin widens. “Yeah. Lasted almost three years. Fucking awful, it was.”

Harry scrunches his nose and frowns, too adorably for someone who cheated on Louis. Well, sort of. Not this Harry though. Fuck. Louis is comparing them now?

“Really?” he pouts.

Louis smiles. “Nah. You looked bloody wonderful as you always did, Haz.”

Harry blushes and looks away. Aww. How cute. It’s definitely a new experience (well, old one too) to Louis.

“Do you think I’ll remember?” Harry asks, the mood shifting into seriousness now.

“I hope so,” Louis responds honestly. Does he really?

Harry reaches over and grabs Louis’ hand, squeezing it. “It really is strange. Seeing you older like this. Kinda hot you know.” And suddenly, Harry’s right there, face burrowed into Louis’ neck as he shifts uncomfortably in the car.

Louis pushes him away before being able to think about it. Harry’s obviously a bit confused.

“Sorry, Haz. Just…just don’t want you to hit your head again and forget even more memories,” he lies.

Harry frowns, but Louis’ out of the car and shutting the door before Harry can say anything else.

Fuck. He forgot about this other thing about Harry in the time that Harry’s stuck in. It’s also the time when Harry actually cared enough to be observant of Louis.

Louis needs to be more careful, and even though he waits for Harry to get out of the car, he doesn’t look at him once, too afraid something in his expression will give him away.

He should have thought that the fact that he wasn’t looking at him at all would give away even more.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 10 months, 17 days**

“So, you’re not going to tell him?” Niall asks when Louis had mumbled something about not mentioning the fact that Harry and him are actually broken up because Harry cheated on him to Harry himself.

“It’s already been almost a month, Lou. Are you seriously not going to tell him?” Liam asks, annoying as always. Okay, maybe that isn’t true, but whatever.

“He’ll remember eventually, lads. He’s already remembered a whole bunch,” Louis tries to defend but the looks on his friends’ faces aren’t really helping him out all that much.

“So…you’re not going to tell him?” Niall repeats and Louis groans, placing his hand over his face.

“No, okay? I’m not going to tell him until he remembers himself!” Louis finally exclaims. Seriously. Why are all of his friends such reasonable twats?

“So, you’re not going to tell him until he’s remembered himself? Isn’t that kind of deceitful?”

“Liam, please don’t. I feel bad enough, but he’s the one who cheated on me! Okay? _He’s_ the one who did it! It’s not as if I cheated and he doesn’t remember that! It’s him and his own damn fault! Okay? So please stop giving me shit because I’m not telling Harry that’s he’s a fucking arse,” Louis huffs out. He’s had his heart broken by Harry and yet now he’s the bad guy for not fucking telling him that he’s a fucking cheater?

Liam sighs, but doesn’t say anything else and Louis looks around the room as if daring them to say anything further.

Nobody does, but Louis’ still a little pissed, but it’s not like he’ll bring it up again.

All in all, the night sucks and Louis leaves two hours earlier.

He has to get back to old Harry anyway.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 10 months, 15 days**

The hardest problem Louis’ had to face with Harry is trying not to snap at him for doing stupid things. It’s hard, is the thing. Also, Harry doesn’t help with the fact that he keeps trying to instigate sex every fifteen minutes. Louis never even realized how fucking horny they could be around each other considering Louis had been too.

The thing was is that Louis should not enjoy it this much. He shouldn’t bask in the attention that he never noticed had faded a bit over time. He hasn’t gotten this sort of attention from Harry in a long time and he doesn’t know how to react to it properly.

Although, Harry has _definitely_ noticed the lack of sex between them, but Louis just can’t do it.

He can’t fucking do it because all he can think about when Harry holds him too close, kisses too close to his heart, is too sweet to him, is how Harry cheated on him. Harry fucked somebody else and Louis just can’t fucking do it.

Harry’s noticed, but what is he supposed to do without telling him?

Louis still hates him for what he did to him, but the feeling of being loved is getting to him.

Fuck. Did Harry really stop loving him without him noticing?

“Hey, Louis?” Harry asks, walking into the room and interrupting Louis’ moody thoughts.

“Yeah, Haz?”

“Did we go to France together or was that just something I made up?” Harry asks, sitting down on the couch next to him, with a faint smile on his face.

Louis manages a smile at him. “Yeah, we did. We were there for about a week and we just kind of had a romantic getaway together. It was very cheesy.”

“Yeah, I think I remember some of it. I remember kissing you in a pool.”

“Yeah. You did. I hated it,” Louis mumbles, refusing to look at him. Harry pinches his arm and Louis sort of likes him again.

“You loved it. Admit it,” he teases.

Louis crosses his arms. “Nah. It wasn’t even that good anyway.”

Harry pouts and nuzzles into his shoulder. Louis tries desperately not to think about Harry being in some woman, but he fails and stands up instead.

“I need to use the loo,” he says.

“Yeah. Okay,” Harry says, sounding a little upset. Louis manages to ignore it as he walks to the bathroom and closes the bathroom with a soft sound.

He’s just so fucking confused.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 10 months, 18 days**

They’re at the third scheduled appointment since the first and it’s the first time Harry has asked to see the doctor alone. Louis’ sitting in the waiting room, getting tired of waiting standing up after being told by Harry that he was going to talk to the doctor alone. Louis was internally freaking out, but he remains to keep his calm.

They come back out almost fifteen minutes later, Harry looking incredibly guilty or sad. Louis can’t pinpoint the exact emotion but it’s not of the positive sort.

Louis stands up and walks to Harry immediately. “You okay?” he asks.

Harry simply nods. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

He leaves Louis alone for a second before pausing and inclining his head, indicating that he’s waiting for him.

Yeah. Okay. Louis’ officially freaking out now.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 10 months, 19 days**

Louis wakes up to Harry’s loud voice and Louis’ confused for several seconds as to why he hears Harry speaking when they broke up before he remembers that…oh.

Louis rubs at his eyes, yawning loudly and stands up. Harry’s in the living room…or is it the kitchen? He can’t tell. Opening the door quietly and silently walking in the hall, he stops himself from asking what Harry’s doing when he hears his name.

“Tell me Zayn. Did I fucking do it?”

So, he’s talking to Zayn over the phone at three o’clock in the morning because obviously he has no boundaries of Louis’ sleep?

“Please tell me I didn’t Zayn. Did I?” He sounds desperate and sad and Louis hates it.

“Fuck. Zayn…why did I do it, Zayn?” Fuck. It sounds like he’s crying now and—shit, Louis knows why. Did he remember? Is that what this is all about? Did he remember the fact that he cheated on him? Did he remember all of it? How much did he remember?

Harry letting out a broken sob breaks Louis away from his thoughts. Should Louis hug him? Should he just go back to bed? What is he supposed to do?

Why the fuck did any of this even have to happen to him? Louis can’t do this. He can’t do this. He _can’t do this._ He should have just told him and kicked him away.

No, he should’ve followed his first impression of Harry instead. Harry’s still crying when Louis gets back to bed and Louis thought he wouldn’t feel anything. He thought he could do this.

Turns out he can’t and it turns out that love is awful.

∂∂∂∂

**7 years, 10 months, 20 days**

When Louis wakes up, Harry’s not in the bed and the sweet smell of bacon fills his mind. So, Harry’s making him breakfast. Louis is unsurprisingly perfectly okay with that idea. He gets up, smiling, completely forgetting about what happened last night (okay, not really, but he can pretend).

Louis grabs his blanket, happy that he doesn’t have a pressing urge to write today, and wraps it around himself as he walks out to meet Harry.

Harry’s in the kitchen, shirtless and beautiful and Louis can honestly allow himself to forget that he’s not with Harry anymore. He can allow himself to forget all of that when he smiles at Harry, who just now glances at him, looking worse for wear.

“Hey, Haz,” Louis says.

“Louis,” is all Harry says and fuck, he looks like he wants to start crying again. Louis doesn’t mention that though and sits down, blanket closely packed around him.

Harry places bacon in front of him and Louis sighs, content despite all the shit that’s probably about to happen.

Harry sits down across from him, staring at him.

“Something wrong?” Louis asks, knowing perfectly well that it would’ve come up anyway regardless of whether Louis asked or not. Harry’s bottom lip trembles and Louis has to tear his gaze away. He really can’t do this.

“Louis…I remember,” he finally says and Louis can only allow himself to nod.

“Yeah. I heard last night. Sorry. You woke me up and you know me…natural curiosity and a vengeance for those who wake me up,” he says. Harry breaks into tears as soon as Louis tries to throw a weak smile his way. Louis can’t do this if he’s going to cry. “Oh no no. Please don’t cry, Harry. Please please don’t.”

“Louis, I am so so sorry. I’ve wanted to talk to you for months and then four days ago, it all just hits me and I was so confused. I asked the doctor and then Zayn and fuck, Louis. I’m so sorry,” he sobs.

“I know, Haz,” Louis sniffs. “I know that you’re sorry, but I don’t know what _I’m_ supposed to do because I can’t even kiss you Harry. I can’t do any of that with you without thinking that you’ve done it with somebody else too and _I don’t know what to do._ Am I supposed to forgive you completely? Do I hate you forever? I’m sorry, Harry, but I don’t know what to _do._ ”

“I never stopped loving you, Louis,” Harry cries. “Ever. I may have lost my way for a while there, but that’s because I got confused, and I know that’s a shitty excuse, but it’s true. I don’t even know why I did it, and I’m so fucking sorry. I just started going to so many parties and you were never there and I don’t know why I did what I did Louis, but I did, and I’m just so _fucking sorry_.”

Louis abruptly stands up, knocking over his chair in the process and he’s just seeing stars and brokenness.

“Harry, I’m still completely in love with you and it’s hard for me, do you get that? It’s _hard_ for me to think about you fucking some woman more than once. It’s _hard_ and I’m not really sorry for feeling like this, okay? I think that I am perfectly justified for how I’m acting, but it doesn’t seem like it’s _enough,_ and I _don’t know what to do_ ,” he grits out. “ _I don’t know what to do.”_

“I know, I know and I’m so sorry for it. I’m so fucking sorry, Louis and I’m no expecting anything, but you know what else I remember? I remember how much it hurt not having you in my life. I was miserable, Louis. I was just so fucking miserable and I couldn’t look at anything without thinking of you and how much I screwed up and _I’m sorry_ ,” Harry wept. Louis has too many things to say to that and yet he keeps his mouth shut, just thinking. He doesn’t even know what he’s thinking, but he knows that it’s too much.

Is he just thinking over this too much? He needs to get out. He needs to leave, but he needs someone to talk to. He just wants to talk to someone who aren’t his friends or the very person of his situation.

Then, Louis knows who he needs to talk to.

“Harry…stay here for a while. I need to think about this, okay? I need to allow myself to think, Haz,” he says.

Harry’s still crying, but he manages to stop himself for a bit to sniff out, “Are you sure, Lou? I can leave. Please, let me do anything to make this right.”

Louis shakes his head. “No. I’m going to go. I’ll be back soon. I just need to think about this. Okay? I need to think.”

Harry nods. “Yeah. That’s amazing, Louis. I don’t even deserve that. It’s just…you’ll come back, right? You’re not like…going to run away from all of us and never return, right?”

Louis laughs and says, “No, Haz. Besides, all my shit is here so I’d have to come back eventually, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry sniffs. Louis’ already opening the door and he looks back at Harry once more.

He closes the door before Harry gets the chance to respond.

—

Considering the fact that Louis hasn’t seen his mother in months, he didn’t expect to be greeted with an “Oh, Lou” and a hug when he knocked on her door.

“Mum?” he asks, hugging her back of course. The break apart and his mother brings a hand up to cup his face.

“I love you so much. Are you finally here to talk about Harry?”

Okay. What the hell? Louis frowns and asks, “How did you know about Harry?”

His mother smiles sadly and responds, “Just because you don’t call me every week doesn’t mean he doesn’t.”

She steps aside to let him and Louis’ confused and touched.

“Harry calls you?” he asks.

She nods. “Well, called as he hasn’t in a while although Zayn told me what happened so I understand.”

“Wait, now _Zayn_ called you?”

She nods again.

Louis scoffs, offended and feeling guilty. “Wow. So…you’re pretty much saying that all of my friends are better sons to you than I am?”

She smiles. “ ‘Course not, Lou. Just that they’ve all appreciated how cool and hip I am unlike you.”

Louis rolls his eyes and looks around. It’s weirdly quiet. “Where are the kids?”

“Out with Dan. He took _all_ of them out and well, I was feeling quite lonely and yet here you are! It’s a shame you’ll miss them….”

Yeah. Louis was looking forward to seeing the girls, but he shrugs nonetheless. He honestly does need to visit his mum more often.

 "Wait…so Harry was still calling you even after…everything?”

His mother nods, seriously. “Yes and you can imagine how angry I was at him. I didn’t speak to him for two weeks until he called me in a crying fit telling me how much he missed you. He was a right mess, sweetie.”

“Do you think I should take him back mum?” he blurts out, getting straight to the point.

She purses her lips, remaining quiet. “That’s up to you, darling. Plus, I think you’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…you’re here, aren’t you? If you weren’t going to allow him back in your life, I have a feeling that you wouldn’t have come here. You’re just here for me to back you up so you won’t feel too badly if it’s a mistake, am I right?” she asks, a secret smile gracing her face. Louis loves her so much, but he isn’t sure about what she’s saying. Could be.

“Don’t know,” he admits, watching her face soften as she pulls him into another hug.

“You want to talk over lunch? I was about to make sandwiches and some tea,” she offers, petting his head. Louis nods, sniffing a bit, surprised that he didn’t even realize he had started to cry a bit.

“Yeah. That sounds really good,” he says and his mum smiles at him again.

—

His mum and him talk for two hours until he realizes that he’s known what he’s going to do all along. They leave with tearful hugs and sloppy kisses on the cheeks and Louis couldn’t ask for anything better.

He gets back into his car and smiles, blasting music that only Harry really listens to, but it doesn’t matter because he knows that from here on out, he’ll get to listen to it with Harry.

—

When he gets back to Harry, they cry and they fight and they talk. They talk and talk and it’s everything Louis’ been missing, but eventually, Louis decides to take the risk of betting on Harry. He still can’t kiss him, still thinking about another woman kissing him, but Harry understands, or at least, is trying to.

The night ends with him cuddled up to Harry on the couch as he makes fun of him for calling his mum all of these years.

And when they reach the eight-year mark, they celebrate and make love and it feels like their first time all over again, which is all Louis could ask for. Harry takes him out on more dates and he spends more time with Louis and Louis realizes he’s fallen in love with him again. It’s almost as if he’s met him again for the first time. The only difference here is what Louis’ first thoughts are and it’s not about how Harry would break his heart.

It’s how Harry has his heart already and that he’s actually hopeful this time.

It’s nice to have hope, Louis thinks, and when he sees Harry playing with their daughter, he can’t help but think that it’s nice to have love too.

No matter how undone.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ugh


End file.
